The Art of Sexiness
by Sadazen
Summary: A sort of MurTsuHi love triangle. Just what ARE Tsuzuki's reasons for his rejection of Hisoka? OOC! Sheer stupidity!
1. Rejection

Disclaimer: Yami no Matsuei belongs to Matsushita Yoko and is, thusly, not mine. However, this fic is, and the events occurring within said fic are products of my own twisted imagination.   
  
Author's Notes: Hi people of the world!!! Here's another one of those pointless, plotless fics that seem to spring up from nowhere and everywhere. This is my first posting on FF.net, and my first attempt at humor. Hopefully, it won't suck so much. Anyway, on with the fic! I hope you enjoy.  
  
The Art of Sexiness  
  
Chapter 1: Rejection (DUNDUNDUNDUNNNNN!!!!)  
  
Hisoka pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket, trying hard not to show his unease. The night sky was bright, and a full moon shone down upon the graveyard where he stood with his partner.  
  
His partner.  
  
It sounded nice.  
  
His partner.  
  
Tsuzuki Asato, the man he had worked with for what seemed like forever now, the man who had been a friend to him, an older brother, a confidant.  
  
But he wished they could be more than that. He wanted Tsuzuki's love.  
  
Hisoka watched him in silence, and felt the uncertainty, the same unease as he felt radiating from Tsuzuki like heat. His heart skipped a beat, and a thought stirred in his mind. It could be that Tsuzuki was harboring some secret emotion that he now wished to confess. It was farfetched, but not totally impossible. He knew the emotions Tsuzuki was projecting. And the mood was right.  
  
"Hisoka."  
  
Tsuzuki spoke seriously, almost hesitantly, as if he knew about the train of thought running through the younger boy's mind, as if he was trying his best to draw Hisoka's attention from it as gently as possible.  
  
Hisoka didn't reply, but merely inclined his head in Tsuzuki's direction to show that he had heard, and that he was listening.  
  
Tsuzuki shifted uneasily. "Hisoka... I have something to tell you."  
  
"Yes, Tsuzuki?"  
  
"Hisoka... I..." His mind reeled for a moment, and he knew that there was no turning back now. "I..."  
  
Hisoka said nothing, and just looked at him, eyes bright, lit with an emotion that Tsuzuki couldn't identify.  
  
Could it be hope?  
  
"I..." He drew in a quick, sharp breath, planted his feet firmly on the ground and pointed a finger straight at his partner.  
  
"I do not find you sexy!!!"  
  
Hisoka's face fell. "You... you... you don't?!"  
  
Tsuzuki shook his head. "No, I don't."  
  
"But... but... but why?!"  
  
"Because." Tsuzuki looked away, "My heart belongs to Muraki!"  
  
All at once, the sky darkened, and the glow of the moon that had only a short while ago been so bright and clear became weak and dim. Lightning flashed in the distance.  
  
Hisoka fell to his knees and raised his arms and face to the sky to meet the rain as his anguished cry joined the rumble of the thunder. (Author: Drama.-)  
  
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
"Oh YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSS!!!!"  
  
The startled pair looked up to see Muraki standing a short distance off, a look of elation on his face.  
  
"I love you too, Tsuzuki!"  
  
"Muraki!" cried Tsuzuki, momentarily forgetting about Hisoka.  
  
"Tsuzuki!"  
  
"Muraki!"  
  
"Tsuzuki!"  
  
"Muraki!"  
  
"Tsuzuki!"  
  
The two starcrossed lovers immediately began to run toward each other (Author: In slow motion, keep in mind! -), finally meeting in a close embrace.  
  
Hisoka struggled with his inner turmoil. There might be hope yet. If only he could find the strength to voice his thoughts.  
  
"But... but... but..." His voice first came out as a thin whisper, then rose above the howl of the rain and the wind that came with it.  
  
"Tsuzuki, I love you!"  
  
Tsuzuki, at the sound of Hisoka's voice, broke away from Muraki and turned to him, his voice taking on a dramatic tone that REALLY wasn't him.  
  
"I know, Hisoka. I've always known."  
  
"But then... WHY?!?!" Hisoka demanded. "Why," he pointed at Muraki, "HIM?!?! Why not ME?!?!"  
  
Tsuzuki shook his head again. "I'm sorry, Hisoka. You're just... not sexy enough!!!"  
  
"Why, Tsuzuki, WHY?!?! What does sexiness matter?! What is sexiness when I have love?!"  
  
Tsuzuki held out his hands to his partner, clenched and quivering with the emotion he was struggling to convey.  
  
"Love is not enough, Hisoka!!!" he exclaimed. "I need sexiness!!! I crave sexiness!!! And you can't give me that!!! You're just not sexy enough!!!"  
  
At any rate, it was true. Tsuzuki had often dreamed of being loved, but he couldn't have love without sexiness. It just wasn't complete. Though he might have loved Hisoka, the truth was that he couldn't give what he needed. And that was sexiness. Hisoka just wasn't sexy enough. He was too young, too inexperienced, not yet developed.  
  
"But I CAN be sexy, Tsuzuki!!!" pleaded Hisoka. "I CAN be sexy!!! Just give me time!!!"  
  
Tsuzuki brought his hand up to his forehead. "Alas, Hisoka! Time is the one thing I do not have! I have already found my true love!" He looked again toward Muraki, and his world seemed to sparkle, and music played from nowhere, probably because he was so ecstatic over finally finding his "true love."  
  
"Nothing can take that away!" he told Hisoka, torn between joy and regret. "But you will always be my partner, and my friend."  
  
"But I thought we were MORE, Tsuzuki!" cried Hisoka in agony. "You have no idea how much I wanted us to be more!!!"  
  
"But we can never be more, Hisoka!" Tsuzuki returned. "You should know by now that we can never be more!"  
  
Hisoka's heart dropped. "But... Tsuzuki!"  
  
"Oh, Hisoka!"  
  
"Tsuzuki!"  
  
"Hisoka!"  
  
"Tsuzuki!"  
  
"Hisoka!"  
  
"Tsu-"  
  
"Tsuzuki!" Muraki called, shattering all Hisoka's hopes for love with that one word. (Author: Ooh. Harsh.)  
  
"My love calls!" Tsuzuki cried out, with one last regretful look at his partner. But not TOO regretful. "I must go!"  
  
"Tsuzuki!!!" Hisoka yelled after him, now in utter despair.  
  
Tsuzuki didn't turn back, and ran off somewhere with Muraki, leaving poor Hisoka all alone in the rain, wet and heartbroken.  
  
Hisoka pulled his knees up to his chin and curled himself up into a little ball, sniffling, tears running down his cheeks.  
  
"Tsuzuki doesn't think I'm sexy." he sobbed. He wiped his nose on the sleeve of his jacket and cried more.  
  
Suddenly, Hakushaku-sama materialized out of nowhere, just as Muraki had done earlier. He enveloped Hisoka in a hug that would have been comforting coming from almost anyone else... just not from him. And what he said didn't help the poor boy much either.  
  
"Aww... Don't cry, Hisoka. I still think you're sexy. Of course, Tsuzuki's sexier, but..."  
  
This was too much for Hisoka. He let out a shrill, blood-curdling shriek, jumped to his feet and began to run far, far away from Hakushaku- sama.  
  
Hakushaku-sama, now left all alone, sighed. "OH WELL."  
  
To Be Continued  
  
Notes: I fixed the error. Sorry about that. 


	2. Help You

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
Author's Notes: I have chapter 2! Yay! Thanks, everyone, for the reviews. I had to bring the rating up a bit because of some things in here and in the next few chapters. Oh, well. Hope you enjoy, either way.  
  
The Art of Sexiness Chapter 2: Help You  
  
It was a dreary, misty morning, and the air was cool and smelled of rain. EnmaCho was, for the most part, quiet, and probably wouldn't come alive for another hour or so. It was too early.  
  
That same morning found Kurosaki Hisoka walking the halls, an open book in his hand, not seeming to care where he went. Apparently, the events of the night before were still plaguing his mind.  
  
"But *why not?!*" Tsuzuki's voice whined from behind the closed door of Tatsumi's office.  
  
Hisoka stopped in mid-step. What was Tsuzuki doing here so early? Tsuzuki was *NEVER* early. He was hardly ever on time as it was. Before he knew it, he had his ear pressed up against the door, straining to hear what was going on inside.  
  
"Because!" Tatsumi was saying. "You know how Muraki is! You can't have a relationship with him! It wouldn't be good for you. It wouldn't be good for anyone."  
  
"But I love Muraki!" mewled Tsuzuki.  
  
"No, you don't! You *lust after* Muraki! There's a difference!!!"  
  
"You're just jealous!"  
  
"I am NOT jealous!!!" Tatsumi yelled. "I have better things to do!!! I don't have the time to be jealous of him!!!"  
  
"You don't know how much trouble you're in for, Tsuzuki-san," he continued, his tone suddenly grave. "Nothing good can come from a relationship with Muraki. You should know that. I don't know why I bothered trying to explain it to you."  
  
Tsuzuki didn't reply, and nothing more was said. Luckily, Hisoka had enough sense to straighten up and move away from the door as it opened and Tsuzuki emerged.  
  
He looked pale, tired, probably from waking up early, or from the conversation he'd just had with Tatsumi.  
  
Tsuzuki smiled faintly as he caught sight of his partner.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Hisoka looked back and returned his greeting with a slight nod.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Nothing more was said. Tsuzuki went back to his office, leaving the office door ajar, and Hisoka resumed his walk. Or, at least, was about to resume his walk when he heard another snatch of conversation inside the office.  
  
"Ooh, it looks like *somebody* wants Tsuzuki ALL for HIMSELF, ne?" Watari chirped from inside.  
  
"I'd thank you to shut up, Watari-san," Tatsumi replied. "That guy really doesn't know what he's getting into. You know as well as I do that nothing good can come of this relationship he has with Muraki. But will *HE* listen?! NO! He might as well go and f*ck Oriya too while he's at it, damn it!!!"  
  
"Now, now," said Watari tentatively. "Let's not get testy. We all want what's best for Tsuzuki, even if that's not what he wants, but-"  
  
"But?"  
  
Watari huffed. "Never mind."  
  
"No, no, go on. I'm listening. But?"  
  
"You won't like it."  
  
"I don't care!" A thick vein throbbed in Tatsumi's temple. "Just say it!!!"  
  
"But," Watari hesitated for a moment, then went on, "maybe we should let him do what he wants for a while. We can always step in if things get nasty, but it seems that nothing's happening right now. So far, things are okay."  
  
"Watari-san." Tatsumi said, his voice dropping to a dangerously low tone. "Things are *not* okay. Things are most definitely *not* okay. I can't believe you'd even *think* of such a thing!"  
  
"I *said* you weren't going to like it. . ." Watari grumbled. He suddenly caught sight of Hisoka through the partly open door and called out.  
  
"Hi, bon!"  
  
Hisoka froze like a deer caught in a car's headlights and slowly turned his head toward them.  
  
"Kurosaki-kun," said Tatsumi, beckoning to Hisoka. "Come in for a moment."  
  
Hisoka stood still for a moment more, then closed his book and entered the office.  
  
Tatsumi was seated at his desk, his hands clasped on the table before him, his expression serious, as usual.  
  
"Have a seat, Kurosaki-kun."  
  
Hisoka seated himself on a divan that had not been there before, next to Watari. He eyed Tatsumi-san expressionlessly, wondering what he wanted from him.  
  
After a pause, Tatsumi cleared his throat.  
  
"I suppose you know about Tsuzuki-san," he said.  
  
"What about Tsuzuki?" Hisoka inquired, though he already knew the answer.  
  
"It appears he's gotten into a relationship with our evil psychopathic doctor, which is rather unsuitable for him, and it wouldn't do him any good either, Kurosaki-kun, you know that, so don't bother trying to contradict me like," at this, he flicked a glance at Watari, "this one did."  
  
"But I didn't *contradict* you, Tatsumi!!!" Watari protested. "I was just saying that-"  
  
"Enough," Tatsumi snapped. "I don't have time to bicker with you."  
  
"You don't seem to have time for anything," grumbled Watari. Tatsumi shot him a death glare which silenced him immediately. He scooted over to the side of the divan away from Hisoka, crossed his arms and pouted.  
  
"Anyway," Tatsumi went on, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and turning from pouting Watari to blank-faced Hisoka, "has he mentioned anything to you about that affair? Showed any signs that something isn't right with them, perhaps?"  
  
Hisoka shrugged and shook his head. "He hasn't spoken to me about any of that."  
  
"But you knew about *them*? Before now, I mean."  
  
"Yes, I did." For a moment, Hisoka's nonchalant façade slipped, and a little bit of the anguish that was still eating him up inside showed itself in his eyes. "He told me himself, last night, and-"  
  
"And?"  
  
He shook his head, and the façade was back in place. "Never mind."  
  
"No, do tell." Tatsumi leaned forward slightly. "I'd like to hear *your* side of the story."  
  
Some time later. . .  
  
Hisoka was stretched out on his back across the divan, leaning against Watari. Tatsumi was still at his desk, listening intently.  
  
"And then," Hisoka was saying in a tearful voice, pausing to sniff, "He- he- he- he said I wasn't sexy enough!!!" At this he and Watari immediately burst into tears.  
  
"Oh bon!!!" howled a chibified Watari, hugging a chibified Hisoka tightly (Author: Actually, more like Hisoka's *head* but it doesn't really matter, same difference) as rivers of tears flowed from their eyes. "That was so sad!!! It must have been so painful!!!"  
  
"Tsuzuki said I wasn't sexy!!!" Hisoka wailed back. "You have no idea how much that hurts!!!"  
  
Tatsumi cleared his throat again. "But you *did* tell him that you're capable of being sexy, with time, didn't you?"  
  
"Yes, but he turned me down anyway!!!" cried Hisoka as Watari began to howl again and hugged him even harder, holding his head so tightly that the blood circulation in his brain must have been cut off entirely.  
  
"He said- he didn't- have- time," Hisoka continued, faltering, trying to make his voice loud enough for Tatsumi to hear over Watari's screams, and miserably failing. "And that- that- that-"  
  
Tatsumi held up a hand to silence him. "Yes, I know, I heard that part already."  
  
At that, there was a lull. Even Watari's howls ceased. The three Shinigami looked at each other without speaking and then. . .  
  
Hisoka and Watari resumed their blood-curdling fits of howling, though Hisoka's fits sprung more from the fact that Watari was hugging his head too tightly rather than the pain it caused him to retell the story of the night before, traumatizing events and all. Watari, unfortunately, took no notice and just howled his way to high heaven.  
  
A vein popped in Tatsumi's temple. He jumped to his feet and pointed a finger at the two weeping shinigami on the divan.  
  
"You!!!" he pointed at Watari, "And You!!!" he pointed at Hisoka, "Both of you!!! Stop that this instant before you flood my office!!!"  
  
Hisoka, knowing how painful it would be to incur Tatsumi's wrath further, stopped crying immediately. Unfortunately for Watari, he hadn't heard Tatsumi over the sound of his own howling. And, thus, felt the pain of Tatsumi's closed fist brought down upon his head.  
  
"Oww!" he exclaimed, but at least managed to shut up after that.  
  
Tatsumi nodded. "Thank you."  
  
Hisoka wiped his face with a handkerchief. "So, what am I doing here exactly?"  
  
"Ah, yes, of course," Tatsumi answered, with a brief smile. "I thought we'd never get to that."  
  
"You see," he went on, "I'd like to help you, Kurosaki-kun."  
  
"Help me?"  
  
Tatsumi nodded, his smile now touched with evil. "Yes, Kurosaki-kun. Help you."  
  
To Be Continued  
  
Notes: Sorry, my mindset wasn't exactly right while I was writing this. I did it in 2 days. And I wanted to leave you people with a cliffhanger, hehe. ^-^ Feel free to send your comments/hate mail. They'll be accepted. Gladly. 


	3. Mayhem Begins

Disclaimer: As said before, I own nothing.  
  
Author's notes: Things got freaky. Probably because I was in a hurry to finish this so psycho-doc could take the evil singing moose head off the wall and I could leave the office. . . I didn't have time to reread, regret what I wrote and change it. Anyway, thanks for reading, and for the reviews. (I do know who you are, Tatsumi-san, and I'll use your evil smiley as much as I want. ^-^ You said I could!) I'm glad you people have enjoyed this fic so far, even if it's twisted. . . And that thing I said in the second chapter about the rating. . .? Never mind.  
  
The Art of Sexiness  
  
Chapter 3: Mayhem Begins  
  
Tatsumi placed a thick leather-bound book on his desk and began to skim through it. Hisoka and Watari were still seated on the divan, the former looking somewhat suspicious, the latter grinning from ear to ear and bouncing with suppressed excitement.  
  
//I wonder how they're planning to "Help me,// thought Hisoka. //Watari's so worked up. . . This can't be good.//  
  
"What are you reading, Tatsumi-san?" he inquired.  
  
Tatsumi held up the book in response to his question, so Hisoka could read the cover.  
  
It read "The Art of Sexiness" by Tatsumi Seiichiro. Hisoka's eyes widened in shock.  
  
//Tatsumi-san *WROTE* that book?!//  
  
He cleared his throat. "Uhh. . . If I may ask. . . *why* are you reading that?"  
  
"I'm looking for a way to help you, Kurosaki-kun," came the reply.  
  
"So. . . how and why are you going to help me exactly? And what does that. . . book have to do with it?"  
  
"You told Tsuzuki-san that you were capable of being sexy with time, didn't you?"  
  
"Yes, I did, but. . ." he frowned, "I don't see what that has to do with anything."  
  
Tatsumi looked at the boy coolly over the top of the book. "It's quite simple, Kurosaki-kun. Since you told Tsuzuki-san that you were capable of being sexy. . ."  
  
"With time," interjected Hisoka.  
  
"With time," Tatsumi acknowledged, nodding, "Watari-san and I will just have to *make* you sexy, to make sure you fulfill what you said."  
  
"We'll. . . what?" Watari asked, unsure of what Tatsumi had just said. "Can you please repeat that?"  
  
Tatsumi did so.  
  
"Oh. . . That should be fun!"  
  
Hisoka was in a state of mild shock. "Fulfill. . . what I said. . .?"  
  
"Yes. You *are* a man of your word, aren't you, Kurosaki-kun?"  
  
"I didn't promise anything, Tatsumi-san."  
  
"Whether you did or not doesn't matter. You told Tsuzuki-san," saying this for the nth time, "that you were capable of being sexy, and since you said so, you might as well prove it."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why is not the issue here, Kurosaki-kun. You made a commitment and you're going to have to keep it."  
  
"But I didn't make any commitments!" Hisoka protested. "I was distraught and heartbroken! People say crazy things when they're distraught and heartbroken! I wasn't actually *thinking* of trying to *prove* to Tsuzuki that-"  
  
Tatsumi held up a hand, cutting his sentence short. "Never mind. Let me put it this way, Kurosaki-kun. Do you love Tsuzuki-san?"  
  
"Well. . . yes, but. . ." Hisoka started to say, but was cut off by Tatsumi once again.  
  
"Do you want what is best for him, regardless of what physical and/or emotional difficulties it might cause you?"  
  
"Of course I do, Tatsumi-san. . . I think. . ." said Hisoka, thinking that Tatsumi was beginning to sound like a lawyer. Or a judge. Whichever.  
  
"Did you not say that you would act on his best interests at all times, no matter what?!"  
  
"Yes, I did, but. . . Wait a minute! I never said that!"  
  
"Really?" Tatsumi looked confused for a moment. Just for a moment. "Then. . . would you say it now?"  
  
"Yes. No. I don't know! Why the hell are you interrogating me about such things anyway?!"  
  
"Just answer my question, Kurosaki-kun!" Tatsumi exclaimed, and added, "Please."  
  
"Fine! I would! There, happy?!"  
  
"Yes, thank you. One last thing, though." Tatsumi turned his chair away from them. There was another lull, as if he was debating on whether or not he should ask the question. Then the chair swerved around again and Tatsumi pointed straight across the desk at Hisoka.  
  
"How much do you hate Muraki Kazutaka?"  
  
Hisoka's dark expression mirrored Tatsumi's just then. "With all the force of my soul, Tatsumi-san. With all the force of my soul."  
  
"That's what I thought." Tatsumi pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "If that's the case, then. . . you'll do it?"  
  
"Do. . . what?"  
  
He sighed, exasperated. "You will allow us to help you prove your sexiness to Tsuzuki-san, and, hopefully, win him back."  
  
"Umm. . . No I won't."  
  
"Yes, you will. For one thing," he held up a finger, "you said you loved Tsuzuki-san, and if you really did love him you'd be willing to do anything out of love for him."  
  
"I know it sounds clichéd, bon," Watari whispered in Hisoka's ear. "But you know how old-fashioned Tatsumi is. Who knows? It might be fun."  
  
This earned him death glares from the other two. He only grinned, saying nothing more.  
  
Tatsumi shook his head. "Secondly," he held up a second finger, "you said you want what's best for him. This affair with Muraki is *definitely* not what's best for him."  
  
He glared at the two younger men in front of him, as if he was daring them to disagree. When neither of them said nothing, contradictory or otherwise, he continued.  
  
"And you said you would act on his best interests at all times." At this, he held up a third finger.  
  
"But, Tatsumi. . ." Watari interrupted, knowing that saying what he wanted to say would be hazardous, maybe even suicidal, yet unable to suppress the urge to say *something* on the matter. Besides, you could only die once, and he was already dead, so. . .  
  
Tatsumi glanced at him. "Yes?"  
  
"Umm. . . Doesn't 'act on his best interests' kind of mean that we should let him be? Because, well, Tsuzuki loves Muraki. Or at least *thinks* he loves Muraki, which is kind of the same thing, I think. . ."  
  
Watari paused, noticing how Tatsumi's eye had begun to twitch, but pushed on.  
  
"Tsuzuki can handle himself, and I think that using bon to interfere with his relationship with Muraki kind of wouldn't be acting on his best interests. . . It's peaceful enough. . ." he trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut and bracing himself for the punishment that he knew was going to come soon, motioning to Hisoka to do the same.  
  
Another lull. They opened their eyes. Nothing had happened. No punches. No throbbing vein in Tatsumi's temple. He was still sitting calmly. Too calmly. Nothing could have prepared them for what happened next, even if the notion of it might have been hibernating in a deep, dark corner, somewhere at the backs of their minds.  
  
"Watari-san," Tatsumi said calmly. Too calmly. "I don't think you fully understand what I've been trying to tell you, nor do you have any idea of the horrors that a relationship with Muraki could bring about, or the harm that might befall Tsuzuki-san."  
  
"What- what- whatever do you mean, Tatsumi?" stuttered Watari, regretting the words almost as soon as he said them.  
  
"It is impossible for *anyone*, I repeat, *ANYONE* to have a peaceful relationship with Muraki Kazutaka. Do you know why?"  
  
Watari, petrified, shook his head.  
  
"Oh, you don't? That's too bad. . ." His too calm demeanor immediately vanished as a vein popped in his temple and he leapt to his feet, sending his chair crashing into the wall behind him and slamming his hands down so hard on his desk that the two younger shinigami were almost certain it would collapse into the floor.  
  
"I'LL TELL YOU WHY!!!!! DR. MURAKI KAZUTAKA IS THE MOST PERVERTED, SHAMELESS, ARROGANT, PSYCHOTIC, DEGENERATE LUNATIC FROM EARTH TO HELL AND BACK AGAIN WHO KNOWS NOTHING OF LOVE AND WILL NO DOUBT TRY TO TURN TSUZUKI INTO A COMPLIANT, OBSESSIVE SEX TOY IF WE ALLOW THIS RELATIONSHIP TO PROGRESS FURTHER!!!!!!!!!!" Tatsumi drew in a sharp breath, seething, his glasses glazed over and smoke rising from his body, before resuming his rant. "NOW DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHY THIS RELATIONSHIP WOULD NEVER WORK?!?! DO YOU?!?!?!"  
  
Watari nodded quickly, made obedient by the horrors he had suffered from angering Tatsumi and not wishing to ever experience them again. "Yes," he squeaked.  
  
"Good." He pushed his glasses up and sat back down, now perfectly calm again.  
  
"So. . . Let me get this straight," Hisoka said tentatively, silently thanking Kami-sama that Tatsumi's wrath hadn't been directed at him, yet still slightly shocked at the outburst. "All of this is some sick ploy to make Tsuzuki want me so he breaks up with Muraki and will never be used as a," he cleared his throat, "'compliant, obsessive sex toy.'"  
  
Tatsumi nodded, throwing an icy glance in Watari's direction for the hundredth time that day. "I'm glad you understand."  
  
"And this is why you want to help me win Tsuzuki back?"  
  
Another nod. "Yes, but there's another reason." Tatsumi looked away from them, his expression softened, as if he was remembering something that meant a lot to him. "I recognize your feelings for Tsuzuki-san. They are. . . not so different from those I had, not very long ago. . ." He coughed and looked back. "It doesn't matter. It's too late for me now. But you. . . Maybe you still have time. I won't give up on you, Kurosaki-kun. I'll *make* Tsuzuki want you."  
  
"Aww. . . That's so sweet," Watari muttered, and was graced with another glare, courtesy of Tatsumi.  
  
"But. . . I don't want Tsuzuki to want me. . ." Hisoka stammered. "At least, not if he doesn't want to want me. . ."  
  
"But he *will* want to want you, soon enough. I'm not going to give up on you, Kurosaki-san, and you shouldn't give up on him."  
  
"I won't give up on you either, bon!" Watari interjected cheerfully, and punched his fists in the air. "We'll make you sexy!"  
  
"So, Kurosaki-kun, are you in?"  
  
Hisoka thought for a while, then replied, praying that he wouldn't regret it, "All right. Count me in."  
  
//This is for Tsuzuki,// he chanted mentally. //For Tsuzuki, for Tsuzuki, for Tsuzuki, for Tsuzuki, for Tsuzuki. . .//  
  
A small smile appeared on Tatsumi's face. "Excellent. Be here tomorrow morning, at 5:30 AM."  
  
"Why so early?"  
  
"No one will be here. We should be able to start without too many problems."  
  
"Start what exactly?"  
  
There it was again. The hint of evilness in Tatsumi's smile. "You'll see."  
  
Hisoka twitched, and a small, squeaky voice in his head was telling him that he should have refused. He tried to wave it aside and mentally continued his "For Tsuzuki" chant.  
  
"Well, then, Kurosaki-kun, that's all for now," Tatsumi told him. "I take it that all your paperwork is finished?"  
  
Hisoka nodded.  
  
"That's fine, then. You can go now. We'll see you here tomorrow morning."  
  
Watari grinned widely as the door closed behind Hisoka. "This should be fun."  
  
"Yes, I have no doubt that it *will* be quite amusing," Tasumi agreed. "Quite amusing. But you have to remember that there's going to be more than just fun involved here."  
  
"Of course, Tatsumi, of course."  
  
"I hope you won't contradict me again."  
  
Watari's grin now spread from ear to ear. "I wouldn't dream of it."  
  
To Be Continued  
  
Notes: Another one down in only a few hours! Yay!!! I'm on a roll! 


	4. Operation Sexify Hisoka

Disclaimer: It's becoming kind of obvious by now, don't you think?  
  
Author's notes: Hey, all. This chapter took a longer than the previous ones. My fast-update roll has passed. I'm off the high. It's so sad. . . Oh well. The fic goes on, even if my mind's been blank for several days. I haven't been well. Thanks, as usual, for reading, and for your reviews (special thanks to not so innocent bystander for the word. I hope it's okay to use it). I'm glad you've enjoyed it thus far, despite the twisted-ness. Insanity rocks my world.  
  
The Art of Sexiness  
  
Chapter 4: Operation Sexify Hisoka  
  
Hisoka didn't know whether it was because it was still dark, or because he was somewhat disoriented, but he could barely see his own hand as he knocked on the door of Tatsumi's office the next morning.  
  
At least, he hoped it was Tatsumi's office. He had walked into EnmaCho stumbling from lack of sleep, eyes half open, and hadn't even bothered to check if he was going in the right direction.  
  
It wouldn't really matter if he had the wrong room. No one was around at this hour. But you never knew. Sometimes people did crazy things. . .  
  
Oh yes, he knew that all too well. He'd been up nearly all night, wondering about what Tatsumi and Watari had planned for him, as little visions of the torture they might make him undergo danced in his head.  
  
//Don't be stupid.// he had told himself then. //It can't be that bad. . . right?//  
  
The poor boy. He was wrong. Dead wrong.  
  
The door opened on the second knock, and someone took his arm and pulled him inside. Watari.  
  
"My my. . ." came Tatsumi's voice. "You're looking rather. . . fresh this morning, Kurosaki-kun."  
  
Hisoka felt rather than saw the man before him smile, sensed the amusement in his tone. He rubbed his eyes, suddenly self-conscious. He had woken up that morning and just thrown on his clothes, dragged a comb once through his hair and was off. He must have looked like a wraith.  
  
"Didn't get much sleep last night. . ." he mumbled.  
  
"Oh?" Watari chuckled. "Left in a hurry, didn't you, bon?"  
  
Hisoka grumbled something inaudible and ran a hand through his hair, trying to at least smooth it down.  
  
"Have a seat."  
  
He shook his head. "Tatsumi-san. . . I'd rather stand."  
  
"Oh. . . why is that?"  
  
"I might fall asleep."  
  
More amusement. "Ah. . . I see. . ."  
  
//Someone's in a good mood,// thought Hisoka. //Wait. . . Tatsumi-san in a good mood. . .? There's something you don't see everyday. . .//  
  
A mug was pushed into his hands. He rubbed his eyes again and looked up into Watari's smiling face.  
  
"Coffee," Watari explained. "It'll wake you up."  
  
Hisoka lifted the cup, then remembered something and lowered it again. "Did you make this yourself?"  
  
Watari nodded.  
  
"Oh. . . You didn't put anything. . . funky in it, did you?"  
  
"Funky? Umm. . . No, of course not."  
  
"Are you sure?" Hisoka raised an eyebrow. "Because if you're lying, your head will pop off at this very moment."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh. . ." Watari crossed his arms and huffed. "Bon! I'm hurt! I can't believe you don't trust me!"  
  
Hisoka rolled his eyes. "Oh boy. . ."  
  
"I can't even make you coffee without raising suspicions?! That's so mean! I thought you were my friend!"  
  
"All right!!! Fine!!!" Hisoka cried and downed the scalding coffee in one gulp. "There! I drank your coffee!"  
  
"So you *do* trust me!" Watari proclaimed gleefully.  
  
"*But* if anything out of the ordinary happens to me after drinking this coffee, I *swear* I will personally hunt you down and skin you alive, as Tatsumi-san is my witness."  
  
"Now that Kurosaki-kun is fully awake, I suppose we can begin?" Tatsumi asked.  
  
"Begin what?" inquired Hisoka.  
  
"OSH!" Watari said.  
  
"OSH?" he repeated. "What's that?"  
  
"Sit down, Kurosaki-kun. All will be explained," Tatsumi assured him.  
  
Hisoka and Watari sat down side by side on the (now infamous) divan as Tatsumi wheeled a chalkboard in front of them.  
  
"Watari-san, 003?"  
  
Watari produced a piece of chalk from his pocket and ruffled the feathers on 003's head. 003 just sat there and stared up at him with wide, unblinking eyes.  
  
"Come on, 003," Watari urged. "Show Tatsumi what you can do."  
  
003 just stared.  
  
Watari thought, then an idea hit him. "Oh! Of course, I'm sorry." He cleared his throat, "Show Tatsumi what you can do, *please*."  
  
003 took the chalk from his hand and alit from his shoulder to hover in front of the chalkboard, chalk poised and ready.  
  
"OSH," Tatsumi explained as 003 wrote it on the board in big letters, "is an acronym for Operation Sexify Hisoka." As soon as 003 had finished writing, he took a pointer from his desk and tapped the words "OSH- Operation Sexify Hisoka".  
  
"Watari-san and I," Tatsumi went on, "are obliged to school you thoroughly in all branches of the Art of Sexiness and by doing so hopefully make you more desirable."  
  
"003?" he prompted.  
  
003 began to write again. In no time, she had finished and returned to Watari's shoulder.  
  
"The Art of Sexiness has two main factors. Physical appearance," Tatsumi tapped the words with his pointer for emphasis, "and Personality." Another tap.  
  
"For the next several days, we'll be focusing more on developing your physical appearance. Personality can wait until next week," he said. "Now, Kurosaki-kun, if you will?"  
  
"If I will. . . what?" Hisoka asked, confused.  
  
"Why, strip, or course," Tatsumi replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.  
  
Hisoka paled visibly. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Strip," Tatsumi repeated. Seeing Hisoka's incredulous expression, he added, "Just remove your shirt, so we can see what needs to be done."  
  
"I am *not* doing this, Tatsumi-san."  
  
"Oh, yes you are." Tatsumi's eyes glazed over again. "You don't want Muraki to turn Tsuzuki-san into a compliant, obsessive sex toy, now do you?"  
  
"Of course not."  
  
"I thought as much. We're both bent on taking that relationship apart, so, as long as I'm teaching you the things you need to learn to accomplish what we've set out to do, whatever I say goes. If I want you to strip, you'll strip, and now I want you to strip to the waist and you're going to do it."  
  
Hisoka muttered something under his breath and made no move to protest. He slid his jacket off and draped it over the side of the divan, but hesitated at his shirt.  
  
//Damn it, Tsuzuki, after this is all over, you'd better appreciate what I went through for you. . .//  
  
He pulled his shirt off him in one quick movement, to prevent any further hesitation from springing up and left it on top of his jacket.  
  
"Stand still," Tatsumi commanded. Hisoka froze.  
  
"You have a fresh look about you," Tatsumi observed. "And there's something appealing about that. I think it's your eyes. That's good, very good. . . Of course, there are some things that need improvement. . . What do you think, Watari-san?"  
  
Watari hadn't heard him. He was sitting on the far corner of the divan, lost in his own world.  
  
"Watari-san?"  
  
Watari started and glanced up. "What?"  
  
"What do you think?" repeated Tatsumi, gesturing to the stock-still, shirt-and-jacket-less Hisoka.  
  
He stood up and walked a couple of circles around Hisoka, looking him up and down.  
  
"You're right, Tatsumi," he said. "He has potential, he's certainly attractive enough. But. . ." he trailed off and took another look, "he's too skinny."  
  
"My thoughts exactly," Tatsumi answered, nodding.  
  
"We need to buff him up a bit."  
  
"I know."  
  
"So, what do we do now, Tatsumi?"  
  
Tatsumi leaned his chin on his hand for a moment, as if thinking about something.  
  
"We jog," he said finally.  
  
"Jog?!" Hisoka blurted out as he pulled his shirt back over his head and donned his jacket.  
  
"Yes, jog."  
  
"Oh. . . I didn't know you jogged. . ."  
  
"Well, I don't. But today, I'm making an exception." He gestured to the door. "Watari-san, why don't you and Kurosaki-kun go change? I'm sure you can find him something to wear. I'll see you outside in a few minutes, then we can head out."  
  
Some time later, in the park (Don't ask what park, just a park). . .  
  
The three of them were dressed similarly, in sweatshirts and sweatpants and sneakers. Tatsumi's were dark gray (Author's notes: Yes, people, believe it! Tatsumi, in sweatpants! Sweatpants!!! They might be a really drab color but still!!! Sweatpants!!! *heavenly music* A miracle has come to pass!!!) and he had a headband around his head. His glasses were folded neatly inside his pocket.  
  
Hisoka's outfit was of the same color, but it was baggier, hanging on him loosely, like a second skin, the sleeves and the legs of the pants rolled up. One could have easily guessed that the clothes had been borrowed, regardless of the fact that they didn't fit properly.  
  
They were borrowed, that much was clear, but certainly not from Watari. His clothes were orange. Yes, orange. His hair was pulled up beneath a red cap, and he rode a bike as the other two jogged steadily through the park.  
  
"This is unfair," Hisoka muttered. "Watari gets the bike."  
  
"We only have one bike," Tatsumi answered. "Deal with it."  
  
"But how come Watari gets to use it?"  
  
"Because you need to shape up, and jogging will at least somewhat speed the process along."  
  
"But he's in poor shape too. For Kami's sake, Tatsumi-san, *you're* in better shape than him."  
  
"It's a long story, Kurosaki-kun."  
  
"What is?"  
  
"I'll tell you later."  
  
Suddenly, they passed two familiar figures, standing in the shadows. One wore white, and the gray, muted light reflected off thick silver hair. The other was in black, with dark hair, and flashing purple eyes. Muraki and Tsuzuki.  
  
Hisoka tensed. //What are they doing here?//  
  
"Tatsumi-san. . ."  
  
Tatsumi nodded.  
  
"What are they doing here?"  
  
"I wouldn't know, Kurosaki-kun. But don't worry. Just think about the look on Muraki's face when Tsuzuki-san dumps him."  
  
"I could do that." Hisoka picked up the pace a little. "I could do that, really well."  
  
They jogged around the park for an hour, then stopped.  
  
"Do we return to EnmaCho?" Hisoka asked, his face and hair damp with sweat.  
  
Tatsumi shook his head, equally sweaty. "Not yet." He pointed to the ground. "Sit-ups."  
  
Hisoka's jaw dropped. "Sit-ups?"  
  
"Yes, sit-ups." He snapped his fingers as Hisoka got down on the ground. "Go ahead, Watari-san. The floor is yours."  
  
Watari got off the bike, rather dejectedly and knelt on Hisoka's feet, holding his knees.  
  
"Give me 30, bon."  
  
Hisoka placed his hands behind his head.  
  
"All right," Watari told him. "1. . . 2. . . 3. . . Go."  
  
Hisoka slowly pushed himself upward, then lowered himself again as Watari counted under his breath.  
  
"1. 2. 3. 4. 5."  
  
The process was slow, as Hisoka seemed to be having some problems sitting up.  
  
"6. 7. 8."  
  
The sky darkened suddenly.  
  
"9. 10. 11. 12."  
  
Tatsumi looked on in silence.  
  
"13. 14. 15."  
  
Thunder rumbled.  
  
"16."  
  
"Watari-san," Hisoka said, in a strained voice, "it's going to rain."  
  
"Then let it rain, bon," was the cheerful reply. "Come on. You're more than halfway through. You can do it."  
  
"17."  
  
"18."  
  
"19."  
  
Rain began to fall, mingling with the sweat that beaded on Hisoka's face and forehead.  
  
"20."  
  
The boy fell back, panting, on the muddy ground, not caring if he got dirty. Watari rapped on his knee.  
  
"Bon! Get up! Only 10 more to go! You can do it!!! Bon!!!"  
  
"No, it's not time for school yet," Hisoka groaned. "5 more minutes, okaa-san. . ."  
  
"I'm not your mommy!" Watari exclaimed, and slapped his knee again. "Get up!!!"  
  
"I don't wanna go to school. . ."  
  
"BON!!!!!" Watari cried. "If you don't get up *RIGHT NOW* Muraki will turn Tsuzuki into a compliant, obsessive sex toy!!!"  
  
Hisoka immediately returned to his senses, and maybe did the last 10 sit-ups. . . a little too fast. He immediately collapsed. Again.  
  
Tatsumi sighed. "I guess that's all, for today," he said as he slung Hisoka's arm over his shoulders and pulled him to his feet.  
  
"Yeah," Watari agreed. "The poor kid. . . Wait till he finds out that this is what we're going to be doing for the next. . . week."  
  
Meanwhile, back in "the shadows" in the park. . .  
  
"Tsuzuki-san, those 3 who passed by earlier. . . Didn't they look familiar?"  
  
Tsuzuki paused. "Come to think of it. . . yeah, they did. Those three. . . looked awfully like Tatsumi and Watari and Hisoka. . ." He shook his head. "But it couldn't have been them. They don't jog."  
  
Muraki laughed. "I guess you're right."  
  
To Be Continued  
  
Notes: Sorry about the slow update! And the chapter isn't so good either. . . Gomen! *bows* Oh, and that little thing Tatsumi was going to tell Hisoka. . .? Don't forget about that, it'll be explained in the next chapter. 


	5. The Last Test

Author's Notes: I LIVE!!!!! lightning strikes WAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Ü Ehem... Anyway... Sorry it took so long. I've been sooooo stuck. I hope it hasn't been an inconvenience to anyone... Gomen!!! Thanks to everybody for reading and reviewing. Enjoy!

The Art of Sexiness Chapter 5: The Last Test

Tatsumi, Watari and Hisoka were, once again, gathered together in the cold, gray Tatsumi-ness of Tatsumi's office. The light was wan and faint, as it wasn't quite morning yet, but the three shinigami were more than used to getting up at that time. It had been exactly a week since that first day at the park, and the effects of the daily strenuous exercise on Hisoka were becoming more and more pronounced, almost impossibly so, much to Tatsumi and Watari's satisfaction.

For a long time, nothing was said between them. Then Tatsumi rose from his seat at his desk, beckoning to Hisoka to do the same.

"Kurosaki-kun," he said, "if you will?"

Hisoka sighed, rising to his feet. "Must I?"

"Of course," Tatsumi answered. "Watari-san and I won't be able to see the results of your training properly if you don't."

"Oh, all right then." Off went the jacket, then the sweatshirt underneath, which were then folded neatly and placed on Tatsumi's desk, courtesy of Watari.

Hisoka stood before them, stripped to the waist and feeling slightly less self-conscious than he would have a week before. There was a long pause, and then...

Watari burst out laughing.

"Oh, gods, bon!" he gasped. "Look at you!"

"It's a big change, certainly," agreed Tatsumi with a slight smile. "And only in a week..." He nodded to Watari, who got up from his place and wheeled a full-length mirror to the center of the room. Once it stood directly in front of Hisoka, he walked around it to stand behind the boy.

"So this is the new you, huh?"

Hisoka surveyed himself in the mirror. He looked, and felt, taller, but that could have been his mind playing tricks on him. His skinny, lanky build had built up a little as of late, but not so much. Just enough. His shoulders were less sharp, no longer sloping, and the shoulder blades didn't protrude from his back as much as they used to. In place of the sharp ribs that had stuck out so much on his tight, flat stomach there were...

Watari laughed at his younger companion's amazement. "Yes, bon, it's true! You have abs!"

Tatsumi came over to stand beside them. "The daily exercise was worth it, wouldn't you say, Kurosaki-kun?"

Hisoka shrugged, in shock at the way he looked. His face was still pretty much as it had always been, though the roundness of it had diminished enough to make him look older, more mature, and yet retain the fresh charisma that he would always have. Still... this was a huge step forward.

Tatsumi's voice brought him out of his daze. "Now, Kurosaki-kun, if you're finished surveying yourself... perhaps we could begin our last lesson?"

The boy nodded wordlessly, sliding back into his shirt and jacket and resuming his seat. He knew it would probably be too much to hope for, but he had thought that his rigorous training under his two fellow shinigami would end that day. Oh well...

"Now, Kurosaki-kun," said Tatsumi, in a tone that suggested that, whatever this "last lesson" was, Hisoka wasn't going to like it, "our next, and last lesson, concerns..." he paused, thinking of a good word to use, "personality."

Hisoka raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Personality...?"

Tatsumi nodded. "Yes, personality. This particular field has many different sects, and Watari-san and I have decided not to explain these to you for fear of complicating the process further. Instead... we will teach you in a much more..." another pause, "practical manner."

"He means," interjected Watari, "that we're going to teach you how to flirt."

Hisoka gulped. "...Why...?"

"Let me explain, bonny dearest." His grin grew wider here. "Tatsumi-san and I feel that it is... necessary for you to learn this. You'll be able to use all your natural charisma to the fullest, and you won't even really need to strain for it once you get used to it. Isn't that so, Tatsumi-san?"

Tatsumi nodded in agreement. "Yes, very good. You'll be working with Watari-san for this, though I will still be here to... supervise." He coughed. "Shall we begin?"

A thought popped into Hisoka's head. _"Watari... teaching me... how to flirt...? Not good..."_

"Of course," said Watari. "Worry not, bonny dearest. It's very easy. You'll get used to it in no time." Watari patted Hisoka lightly on the shoulder. "In very simple terms, the basic elements of flirting are just good conversational skills and proper body language. Now... we'll tackle body language first, since something tells me that you'll be able to learn it faster." His grin was now so wide that it stretched from ear to ear.

"Body language is fairly easy to use as well as interpret, but there's always a risk of conveying the wrong thing," he continued. "The statements that you make with your eyes, for example."

Hisoka, seated once again, raised an eyebrow just a fraction of an inch. "I never thought I made any statements with my eyes, Watari-san."

"See what I mean?" Watari sighed in mock exasperation, dropping his shoulders. "It's very important to know what you might be saying to people with your eyes. You don't want to give the wrong message. Are you following what I'm telling you so far?"

A nod.

"Good. So, bon, say you're sitting in a café by yourself on a Sunday afternoon, and you see me sitting at another table, looking at you like this." He moved back a few steps and fixed his eyes on Hisoka, wearing a sly and somewhat lustful smile. "What would you think?"

An involuntary shiver raced up Hisoka's back. "I'd think you wanted to jump on me."

"Exactly." The grin returned. "The eyes are the most expressive part of the body, even more so if the person in question has eyes as nice as yours. And while you can never _accidentally_ give someone the wrong message if you know what you're doing, people will notice your eyes and imagine that you're saying things with them even when you aren't. Now watch me."

He left his place at the front of the room and crossed to a far corner. A few moments later, he turned back, walking with his eyes to the ground in a particularly relaxed, almost dreamy manner. Then, as he neared Hisoka, his eyes rose, golden meeting green for a half-second, and very quickly looked away. Hisoka felt an electric jolt, and, if he hadn't known any better, would have thought that Watari had briefly given in to feelings he was struggling to hide.

"And, no, that's not just your empathy," Watari told him cheerily, as if in response to his thoughts.

"So, if I can say things like these with my eyes," he went on, "think of how much more you could do with yours."

"Indeed," Tatsumi agreed after a long silence on his part. "With eyes like yours, Kurosaki-kun, I wouldn't be surprised if you had the power to make someone faint just by flicking your eyes at them."

"Tatsumi-san," said Hisoka, "if I had the power to do such a thing, I'm sure I would have been aware of it by now..."

"That's why I'm so surprised you aren't." He cleared his throat. "At any rate, we'll tap into that further later on, as this lesson progresses. Now, we'll move on to posture."

"Ah yes, posture!" Watari exclaimed, clapping his hands like a child about to receive a new toy. "A very important factor in its own right." His hands clapped down on Hisoka's shoulders, pulling them back. "How you carry yourself will affect how other people think of you. Since we're going for a desirable image... you have to carry yourself in a way that will draw people's eyes to your body."

Hisoka blushed.

"Very good, bon!" his "teacher" told him gleefully. "Bodily reflexes can also be very useful, but then you can't control those... Anyway, yeah, we're trying to make you look desirable, so keep your shoulders back and your back straight. Hold your head high, just don't look arrogant... There. Nice, very nice.

"Now, your facial expressions, while not a direct part of posture, also affect how others will see you. And since different things affect different people, there's not much we can teach you there but... try to smile once in a while, ok?"

Once again, he received a blank stare. He sighed.

"Bon! Can't you just _try_?? I'm sure it can't be that hard... Just think of something that makes you happy."

Hisoka paused. Thoughts of Tsuzuki immediately came to his mind.

"Not Tsuzuki, by the way," Watari added quickly. "Thinking of him might eventually lead you to think of Muraki, which will make you angry and... yeah." He grinned. "Just think of things you like, bon."

Another pause. A slow little trickle of images wound into Hisoka's mind, and he smiled. It was a very small smile, probably rusty from disuse, but still a smile. And just the fact that Hisoka was smiling period drew the onlookers' attention away from the touch of sadism that found its way onto his face. (Author: You decide what he's thinking of. )

Tatsumi nodded approvingly. "That's a good start... Shall we move on?"

"Yes, now for conversational skills," Watari agreed. "Now, it's important that, whatever the topic, you're open and honest, but not too forward. Witty, but not a know-it-all. Innocent, but not naïve, meaning it's all right for you to blush as long as you don't act like a four-year- old and give the impression that you don't know what mommy and daddy did to have you."

Hisoka opened his mouth to retort, but decided against it and closed it again.

"Most importantly, you have to be subtle. If you're trying to turn the person on, you can imply it through your words and actions, but don't go too fast. Just because you're trying to turn someone on doesn't mean that you have to molest them..."

At that moment, Tatsumi let out a sneeze that sounded suspiciously like "Muraki." Hisoka ignored it and Watari went on.

"You're following this, bon?"

Hisoka nodded.

"Good. Now, if you're too subtle, that person might not even catch what you're trying to do, and remain oblivious to your efforts the whole time. So, just keep everything in moderation."

Another nod.

"Did you get all of that?"

Yet another nod.

"Good! Let's go."

"Go...?"

It was Tatsumi who answered. "Yes, let's go."

"Go where?"

"You'll see. Come on."

Tatsumi led them outside, where a car was waiting. He opened the driver's door and slid inside, waiting for the others to do the same.

"In the car, bon!" Watari exclaimed cheerfully from the front seat.

"Where exactly...?" Hisoka started to say.

"Just get in the car! Hurry, we're losing precious time!" Watari interrupted, grinning broadly. "Hurry, hurry, hurry!"

A short while later, Tatsumi stopped the car a outside a café and turned in his seat.

"All right, Kurosaki-kun. This is your stop."

Hisoka blinked. "What?"

"You get out of the car, sit at one of the outside tables and look attractive," Watari replied. "We will watch you from here."

"And you want me to do this... why?"

"The last test. If you can attract someone within the hour, we'll know you're ready." He beamed. "You can do it, bon."

"Test?"

"Yeah. This is just an exercise, to get you ready for it."

"So you're not coming with me."

"No, we're not."

"_That grin on his face is starting to annoy me..." _thought Hisoka, feeling his eye twitch.

"But we'll be right here, ready to come out and assist you if anything... happens," Tatsumi assured him. "Don't worry."

"All right," said Hisoka, not feeling very assured. "Whatever you say..."

"Watari-san," he said after a few moments' pause, "what did you say I was supposed to do?"

"You heard me, bon," was the smiling reply. "Get out of the car, sit at one of the outside tables, and look attractive."

"Ahh..."

"You can do that, right?"

"I suppose so..."

_"This is insane..." _he thought several minutes later. _"I'm not doing anything... I must look like an idiot, just sitting here... Doing absolutely nothing..."_ He stood up. _"That's it! I can't take it anymore! I'm going... to the bathroom... Yeah..."_ Turning on his heel, he set off in the general direction of where he thought the bathroom might be...

And collided with someone. Magazines scattered all over the floor, and Hisoka himself was knocked off his feet.

"Excuse me," came a smooth and very... effeminate sounding voice. "I didn't see you there..."

Hisoka shook his head, moving to help the man he had bumped into pick up his magazines. "No, I wasn't looking where I was going either and-" The cover of one of them caught his eye, and his voice died in his throat.

_"Pornography...?" _he thought tensely. _"_Gay_ pornography??? Oh my god..."_ Trying to push these thoughts to the back of his mind, he stood up and handed them forward.

"Oh, thank you." A wiry, dark-haired man took the magazines and smiled down at him, extending a hand. "I'm Moriyuki Shiruo, by the way. Owner of this establishment."

"Kurosaki Hisoka," Hisoka replied, shaking it. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"The pleasure is all mine." There was a disturbing glint in his steel-grey eyes that Hisoka didn't quite like the look of. "Are you here alone?"

"Err... No, I came with a couple of friends, but they're not here right now..."

"What a shame..." He took a step forward. "Aren't you lonely here, all by yourself...?"

"N-no... Not really..."

"I have an apartment not very far from here." Another step forward. Hisoka automatically inched back. "And it's been some time since I've had company."

"I really don't think I should... My friends will wonder where I am..."

_"Some friends,"_ said a dry voice at the back of his mind. He ignored it, turning his attention to the louder voice that was saying _"Run away! Far away!!!"_

"Oh, I'm sure they won't mind. After all, they left a pretty thing like you here all alone." A long, pale hand cupped Hisoka's cheek, forcing his face up. "Please do come."

Watari looked out at the scene through the window and shook Tatsumi.

"He's done it!"

"Wonderful."

"But... err... I think Bon is in trouble."

"What makes you say that?" Not waiting for an answer, Tatsumi glanced out the window. "Oh..."

_"You're not running!!!"_ the voice in Hisoka's mind screeched as an arm wrapped around his waist and his jacket began to slide off his shoulders. _"Why aren't you running?!"_

It was just then that Watari came, like a godsend, and grabbed him, slinging him over his shoulder as easily as if he weighed nothing at all. He dashed to the car, where Tatsumi was waiting and dumped Hisoka inside, scrambling in himself as they drove away.

"Well..." said Tatsumi. "You've made good progress, Kurosaki-kun. Maybe too good... Are you all right?"

"No..." gasped Hisoka from the back seat, clutching his chest. "I saw my whole life flash before my eyes..."

Watari sighed. "There, there, Bon... It's ok. It's over now." Quickly rethinking what he had said, he amended, "Well, it's not over yet. But for now, the test is over, and we think you're ready. Isn't that great?"

"Not really... There are little white spots dancing in the air in front of me..."

"They'll go away."

"All right..." Hisoka stretched out across the seat, his heart still hammering in his ears. "Tatsumi-san, why didn't you ride the bike?"

"What?"

"When we went to the park last week."

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm trying to think about something else."

"Oh, I see... Well, Kurosaki-kun, I never really learned how... and you are going to forget you ever heard that..."

Hisoka didn't answer. Turning back, they saw that he had fallen asleep.

Tatsumi sighed. "I guess it's just as well..."

"Do you think we should have told him what you're going to do?"

"We'll tell him when he needs to know. We'd better just let him rest for now. It's been a long day."

"Yeah... Poor kid."

To Be Continued

Notes: Shiruo-san is my OC. Other than that, I own nothing! (I know I should have put it at the start of this chapter but oh well...) Watari's "lessons" are somewhat based on the book "Memoirs of a Geisha" by Arthur Golden, which is, obviously, also not mine. ('Tis good reading, though. ) Hope you people out there enjoyed this... after so long... Whee!!


	6. El Gato Negro

Author's Notes: I'M BAAACK!!! WAHAHA! Sorry it took so long. :) A big THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed… It makes me laugh that I made you laugh (hahaha!). An especially big THANK YOU to Keira for telling me to get my lazy ass in gear and update. :)

Onward!

The Art of Sexiness  
Chapter 6: _El Gato Negro_

Enmacho, the usual place…

"You want me to WHAT?!" came the voice of the indignant teenager, shattering the once-peaceful stillness of the early morning with its, well, indignation. But then, the dynamic duo of Tatsumi Seiichiro and Watari Yutaka was to blame for that.

"Bon, calm down. It's not as bad as you think. We have it all planned out…" the blond next to him soothed, albeit vainly, all the while mentally scolding the owner of the office for taking his sweet time getting there.

"No, you don't. You don't even have the LEAST idea of what you're getting into, AGAIN… Could you not learn from what's already happened and spare me any more agony???" Hisoka slumped down against the wall, his very posture a picture of defiance. "I'm not doing it."

"You said you'd go through with this-" Watari began, cutting himself off as his eyes widened in horror. "BON! Sit up straight! DO you want to undo EVERYTHING we've done?!"

"All right, all right…" He wondered briefly how slouching for a few moments would undo EVERYTHING they'd done to him over the course of the past week, but complied, if only to spare his tired brain the hassle of processing any more shrilled reproves from Watari into something intelligible. "Why are you so paranoid?"

_I'm _paranoid?? thought Enmacho's resident 'mad scientist' while clearing his throat.

"I'm not _paranoid, _Bon," he said aloud. "You've already made such good progress, and Tatsumi and I just want to see this through with you to the end. Call it _anxious, _if you will, perhaps even _excited. _We want you to be great."

"So you think living the life of the common whore for a night will do it for me?" Hisoka countered, with icy sarcasm.

"It's not that! I've already told you, _El Gato Negro _is a very respectable place, and I've already told you that we have everything planned out. Nothing can happen."

"You said that yesterday."

"Hey! Moriyuki-san was an unforeseen… happening!"

"How do you know there won't be any unforeseen… happenings if we go through with this crazy idea of yours, then?"

Watari hung his head in exasperation. Tatsumi had said that breaking the news was going to be heard, but the fact that Hisoka was behaving like a teenage girl still adjusting to getting her period was pushing him to the brink. A retort had just begun to form on his lips when, thankfully, Tatsumi opened the door and strode in. Watari heaved a sigh of relief. At least he'd arrived before any hissy fits broke out.

"Hello, everyone." Tatsumi, cool as an autumn day, shrugged out of his coat. "Sorry for the delay. I had to pick Oriya-san up." He dropped a stack of letters in Hisoka's lap on his way across the room. "I found these in the mailbox, by the way. They're for you."

Hisoka's eyes narrowed as he scanned the stack in his hands. Every single one was signed "Moriyuki Shiruo" in a flowing, bold script. He paled visibly.

"How the heck do these things reach me?!" he muttered, tearing the letters up and tossing them into the trash can.

"What's wrong?" Watari questioned.

"Nothing, those were just some… bills… I've already paid…" Hisoka mumbled. He fixed the newcomer who had followed his superior into the room with a pointed stare. "What are you doing here?"

Oriya stopped in mid-step and raised both hands. "Easy, Bon." He smirked. "I come in peace."

"Oriya-san is here to help," said Tatsumi. "You've already been informed regarding what's to take place tonight, I trust?"

"Yes, and I can't do it, Tatsumi-san."

"Kurosaki-kun, whatever erroneous information Watari-san provided you with," he began, ignoring the piqued interjection from Watari that ran along the lines of 'I informed him properly, thank you!', "I assure you that the course of action we're going to take isn't as bad as you've obviously been led to believe."

Hisoka considered this a moment. "…All right. Since you think I've been misinformed, what course of action do you plan to take?"

"Oriya-san has verified that Muraki Kazutaka and Tsuzuki-san will be at the club _El Gato Negro _this evening, precisely at 8:00 PM. He's secured a performance slot for you."

"…What exactly will I be performing?"

"You'll be singing a sexy number," Oriya informed him, with a completely straight face. "Picked the song myself."

"…I can't sing."

"I beg to differ. My sources tell me that you can sing, and sing very well, at that." Tatsumi patted his shoulder in an attempt to be consoling, though a corner of his mouth quirked upwards in a half-smirk. "Don't worry, I'll be right there with you."

Hisoka's eyes widened. "You?!"

"Me."

"Well…" he said to himself, "now I've heard everything…"

"So, would someone be so kind as to tell me," he went on to address the room in general, "what the pimp is doing here?"

"I'm a capitalist, so please you," Oriya answered. "And, to answer your oh-so-graciously-phrased-question, I, Mibu Oriya, am here before you today not as your worst enemy's best friend, but as your advisor on all things sexy, and your," he coughed, "shopping buddy."

"You're taking me shopping…? Why?"

"To prepare you, of course. _El Gato Negro _takes only the best of the best. You have to look the part."

Green eyes scrutinized Oriya, and noticed for the first time that he was dressed not in his usual yukata, but in a black jacket and a pair of old jeans. "Is that the reason why you got dressed up?"

"Indeed it is. Shall we go?"

Hisoka shrugged. "Sure." He rose to his feet and followed Oriya out the door, hands pushed into his pockets. One couldn't help but notice the tilt of his chin, or the confident lift of his shoulders that had become increasingly more natural with each passing day.

* * *

"I didn't know you drove one of these," he remarked, eyeing the black-painted motorbike Oriya led him up to. The older man smiled and patted the back seat affectionately. 

"I only take my baby out on special days," he replied. Tossing Hisoka a helmet, "Get on. We have a long ride ahead of us."

* * *

Back in the office, Watari put his arm around Tatsumi's shoulders and gave a stage sniffle. "Our baby's all grown up…" 

"Get off me."

"Fine…"

Tatsumi sighed, making for the door of his office as well. "Come."

"Where?"

"My apartment. We have work to do."

* * *

Despite Oriya's earlier remark, it wasn't too long before they hit the road into the bustling, busy metropolis that was central Tokyo, and were assailed by the typical sounds of traffic and the ever-prevalent smell of car-exhaust. 

"You smell that on the wind, kid?" he said, sniffling the air theatrically. "That's the scent of promise."

"It's care exhaust, Oriya-san."

"Whatever, let's just cut to the chase… You don't happen to own anything leather, do you?"

"Nope."

"No fur, either?"

"No fur."

"Right. Then shopping it is." He turned down a street lined with shops, cruising to a halt by one with a particularly flamboyant sign that said something in French.

"The owner's a colleague of mine," he explained as they entered. "She used to dress my girls. We should be able to get good stuff…"

"Oriya-san!"

They were greeted by a… rather large woman of middle age, bedecked with ermine and feather boas. Her white-gloved hands took Oriya's face between them and she promptly planted a rather noisy kiss on each cheek.

"Welcome, welcome, darling. It's been so long! How are you?"

"Fine, thank you," he replied pleasantly. "It's always a pleasure to see you, Madame de Laine."

"And you, darling…" The woman's hawk-eyes then turned to Hisoka. "And who is this?" she beamed. The boy found the gleam in her eye too identical to that of the Hokkaido girls' when they found a new dress to stick him in for comfort.

"This is Kurosaki Hisoka." A hand went down on Hisoka's shoulder and propelled him forward. "Hisoka, my… colleague, Madame Jeanette de Laine."

"It's nice to meet you-" Hisoka began, before his head was taken between her hands just as Oriya's had been and a kiss was planted on each cheek.

"Oh, he's _adorable!" _screeched Madame de Laine. "Wherever did you find him?"

"He… works with a friend of mine," answered Oriya, probably picking up on Hisoka's 'I was not _found…' _vibe. "I brought him here today because he needs something nice to wear. He'll be performing at _El Gato Negro _tonight."

"_El Gato Negro!" _she shrieked again. Both men brought their hands up to their ears. "Well, in that case, feel free, my dears. Choose anything you like, and I'll give it to you for half the price."

"Madame, that's very generous, but we couldn't possibly-" Oriya tried to say. He was unable to finish, however, as she whirled them around and propelled them both further into her store.

Hisoka groaned mentally. This was going to be a _very _long afternoon…

* * *

"Oriya-san, tell me something," he said, some time later. They had gone through rack after rack, and the fitting room he was now in was loaded with articles of clothing that both his 'shopping buddy' and the store's frightening proprietress insisted he try. 

"Yes, what is it?" came Oriya's voice from outside. "And are you sure you don't like the leopard print?"

"No, I don't like the leopard print," Hisoka retorted, slipping a rather scratchy fishnet shirt over his head. "I was just wondering, how will we pay for all this?"

"It seems Tatsumi-san was feeling generous… He gave us full use of his credit card." (Author: Yup… Poor dude wants it that bad.)

"Seriously???"

"Yep. How's the fishnet?"

"Scratchy. That and it reveals more than it covers up."

"Isn't that the point?"

"Yes, but…" Hisoka looked down at the good three inches of belly the shirt left exposed, "it's too small."

"All right, all right." Oriya caught the shirt as it sailed over the curtained entrance of the fitting room and promptly returned it to the rack. "What about the pants?"

"They don't fit either."

"Are you just saying that because your ass is hanging out?"

"Doesn't that mean they don't fit?"

"No, it means that they leave your ass hanging out." He sighed. "Toss 'em over. I'll find you some new stuff."

"Sure thing."

The rustling sounds that meant Oriya was searching the racks drifted into the dressing room.

"You don't want a skirt?"

"NO."

He chuckled. "Just kidding…" The rustling abruptly stopped. "I think you'll like these. They scream _you_." A black silk zip-up vest and a pair of black jeans were handed to Hisoka through the curtains, followed by a pair of boots. "Try 'em on."

"Ok…" He unzipped the vest and slid it over his shoulders. "You're sure I'm not supposed to wear anything under this?"

Oriya stifled a laugh. "I'm sure… How do you like the outfit?"

"Let me get fully dressed before I tell you, why don't you?" Hisoka donned the jeans, slid his feet into the boots and finally surveyed himself in the mirror. It was astonishing, but he found he liked what he saw… There was one little problem.

"It's nice. Unfortunately, the pants don't fit."

"Again?! Let me see." The curtains parted; Oriya entered the dressing room, examining his charge.

"Yeah, it is nice. Really nice… I see your point, though. The pants are a little tight…" He paused, understanding suddenly hitting him like a bullet between the eyes. "Oh, I see! Bon, they aren't tight at all."

Hisoka blinked. "They're not?"

"No, you're just wearing the wrong underwear."

"'I'm wearing the wrong underwear'… How so?"

"The pants are fitted, so you need something that'll take up a little less space," Oriya answered matter-of-factly, turning Hisoka so he faced the mirror. "Like so." His hand shot down and tugged the boy's underwear upwards. There was a ripping sound, then a yelp of pain followed by a stream of profanity that literally turned the air blue.

"Hmm… Yeah, you're definitely wearing the wrong underwear," the self-proclaimed 'capitalist' decided before leaving the fitting room. "Wait right here. I'll ask Madame for a nice thong of something…"

"A WHAT?!"

* * *

"You look _marvelous, _darling!" Madame de Laine gushed when Hisoka finally left the fitting room, new undergarments and all. "Will you wear it out?" 

"Yes, he will," Oriya answered for him.

"And these?" She gestured with distaste at Hisoka's discarded clothes. "I'll throw them out, shall I?"

"Madame, I'd like to keep my clothes, thank you," Hisoka snapped, nearing the end of his rope. "If you'll put them in a nice bag for me before we _leave, _I'd be _eternally _grateful."

"As you wish, darling." She obeyed, despite whatever opinions she might have had, and rang up their purchases.

In no time at all, they had hit the road again, leaving the waving woman behind. Hisoka growled something inaudible under his breath, at which Oriya couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Look, Bon, I'm sorry I sent your underwear to kingdom come. Okay?"

"That woman is batty…" was the only reply he received. "Completely batty…"

"Yes, I know she's a little… loud, to say the least, but… at least we didn't waste as much money as we would have because she took to you well, right?" He laughed outright, attempting to put his companion in a better mood.

"…This sucks."

"It does, doesn't it? And all for Tsuzuki. But don't worry, it'll be over soon."

"How do you know that?"

"Because we're here." The motorcycle had come to a halt outside another building which, though not large, was terribly extravagant. Its front boasted a neon-lit sign, complete with a large blinking cat. "Welcome to _El Gato Negro."_

To Be Continued

Notes: Madame Jeanette? Yep, another one of those OC's… Did this in a slight rush, after watching _White Chicks _for the third time in a row (hence the "underwear" scene)… Hope you guys enjoyed it, regardless! Next chapter/s coming… soon. Yes, soon, I promise. :)

Please R&R!


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